


The Long Road

by Clockworkpulse



Category: White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fudges with the timeline, Gen, Identity Issues, Like so much angst it could choke a horse, Past Kidnapping, past emotional/psychological abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:57:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8016703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clockworkpulse/pseuds/Clockworkpulse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It should have been a day to celebrate but then things get complicated when the charges against Neal Caffrey get dropped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Long Road

Today is a good day because today is the day that Peter Burke finally catches Neal Caffrey. Three years he had spent chasing this kid and finally the big payoff. 

Caffrey was suspected of everything from bond forgery to racketeering. His name was well known in the White Collar Crimes Division for not only his crimes but also for his skill at alluding the FBI. He was basically a legend at this point. Most thought he would never be caught but Peter was about to prove them wrong.

The trap was set. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, after several hours of reassurance, had agreed to helping catch Neal Caffrey. They put out word that a Raphael was coming in, the FBI doing their part to make sure it found its way to Caffrey and that it felt legit and not like a set up. Peter knew that Neal wouldn’t be able to resist a Raphael.

He thought that SWAT was unnecessary. Neal wasn’t a violent criminal, Peter had come to learn that Neal hated guns and wasn’t much of a fighter, so the chances of Neal actually hurting anybody was incredibly slim if the possibility was there at all. Hughes had insisted on SWAT being there though and so there they were, stationed outside the museum’s backdoor with Peter, ready to storm the building when given the go ahead.

They have access to the cameras inside the museum, the footage being watched carefully by several other agents in the surveillance van parked a safe distance away so as not to tip Neal off.

It feels like ages pass before somebody finally speaks into Peter’s ear and thank God because Peter was beginning to think that Neal hadn’t shown up at all, that they’d been made somehow and he’d turned tail. It’d be weeks before he’d pop up on their radar again if that happened.

“Boss, Caffrey’s in the building and he’s already at the European paintings looking for the Raphael.”

“Let’s go,” Peter said to SWAT and it’s a flurry of movement from there until they arrive at the European paintings area of the museum. A dozen lights are shown on Neal who has his back turned to them. SWAT is ready to open fire if he even tries to run.

“Hands up and turn around,” Peter ordered. There’s a moments lull before Neal does as he’s told. An amused smile adorns his face as he turns towards Peter and the SWAT team and before Peter can order him anymore, he puts his hands behind his head.

“Agent Burke,” Neal greeted him.

“Neal Caffrey. Nice to finally catch you.”

“I’m sure. It’s been three years now,” Neal said. “You tricked me with a Raphael.”

“I did.”

“Guess I got too predictable.”

“It happens to the best of us.”

“Well, it was fun while it lasted,” he commented with an easy shrug of his shoulders. The only words said after that are Peter reading Neal his rights as he cuffs him and takes him out of the museum.

Neal Caffrey was finally in custody.

* * *

The word about Caffrey’s arrest found its way onto every major news outlet by morning. Nobody could turn on the TV to any of those channels without seeing Neal’s face plastered everywhere.

Somebody had to have leaked the information. It happened all the damn time and the only reason there isn't a manhunt for whoever did it right now is because it isn't a big deal. Neal’s face would have found its way onto the news in the next few days anyway.

Still, Peter doesn’t like it but he has no power to tell anybody in the journalism business to cut it out. He tries to ignore it and work on his report instead while he waits for the Marshals to arrive and take Neal to a holding facility where he’ll remain until his trial.

If the kid is convicted of everything he’s suspected of, he’s looking at a good forty years to life. But Peter can’t let it bother him, it’s not his problem. He did his part, he caught the infamous Neal Caffrey, and now Neal had to pay for his actions.

Peter just finishes up his report as his thoughts settle and an agent comes knocking on his door. It’s Jones and the look on his face tells Peter that he’s not going to like whatever is about to come out of Jones’ mouth.

“What happened?”

“The charges against Caffrey have been dropped.”

“ _What?_ ” Peter thinks he’s hearing incorrectly. He has to be because there’s no way the charges on Caffrey would be dropped. They had solid evidence on him towards the bond forgeries. They could _at least_ prove that if they couldn’t prove everything else. “Why?”

“Do you know who Neal Davidson is?”

“Of course I know who Neal Davidson is. Son of a diplomat who went missing twenty years ago. I don’t know a single person who was around back then who hasn’t heard of the kid. They couldn’t find any leads so the case was dropped after a year. It’s a famous cold case now.”

Peter had been twenty-two and finishing up his last year of college at the time it happened. Neal Davidson had been eight years old when he went missing. One second he was with his parents and the next second he was gone. It was treated as a priority case but the failure to find anybody even remotely responsible led to nothing but dead ends and frustration.

They didn’t just stop investigating because they couldn’t find leads though, they stopped investigating because they thought Neal Davidson was dead. They looked for him for an entire year and in that year, nobody had contacted the Davidson’s with any ransom demands or proof of life. The chances of the boy even still being alive at that point were not good.

And now it was dawning on Peter why Jones would bring this up and he hopes he’s wrong.

“Are you trying to tell me that Neal Caffrey is Neal Davidson?”

“The Davidson’s saw Caffrey’s photo on the news and they believe he’s their son, yes.”

“So they had the charges dropped? They can’t be sure he _is_ their son, it’s been twenty years!”

“That’s why they’ve asked for a blood test to be done.”

“Where are the Davidson’s?”

“They’re on their way here now. From what I’ve heard, there’s some stress on the lab to get the test done as soon as possible.”

“I bet,” Peter sighed as he pushed away from his desk. Things just got complicated.

* * *

Michelle and Warren Davidson were an older couple, on the cusp of sixty, and the second they saw Neal’s picture on the news, they made some calls. Even for being twenty-eight years old, his face reminded them of their son’s. If there was even a one percent chance that Neal could be their son, they had to take it.

Peter met them after they had their blood drawn and brought down to the lab. Neal had had his drawn already as well but nobody told him what for, not really anyway, said something about testing and left him with that. Peter thought it was cruel to beat around the bush like they were but they didn’t want to say something in case the test came back proving that Neal Caffrey was not Neal Davidson.

“Mr. and Mrs. Davidson, I’m Peter Burke. I’m the one that…I’m the one who caught Neal.”

“Where is he?”

“ _Michelle_.”

“I’m afraid you can’t see Neal. Not until those tests come back and only if he’s a match. Can we talk in my office?”

“Of course,” Warren said with a nod.

Peter gets them settled on the couch in his office before taking a seat himself. He isn’t good in these sorts of situations. What does one even say to a couple who think they’ve found their son after twenty long years?

“What makes you think that Neal is your son?”

“When we saw his picture on the news, his face reminded us immediately of our Neal’s. I have a photo.” Michelle dug through her bag then and produced a small picture that she handed over to Peter.

It was clearly well taken care of, not one of the corners were bent. Peter couldn’t help but wonder for how long Michelle gazed at this particular photo everyday, missing her little boy. The last twenty years have surely been hell for both her and her husband.

Looking at the picture himself, Peter can see it. He can see this little boy growing up to look like the Neal he knows.

“When was the last time you saw Neal again?” Peter asked, handing the photograph back to Michelle Davidson.

“It was March 23rd, two days after Neal’s birthday. We were holding his party then because his birthday fell on a weekday but, um, it was around four o’clock that I went inside to get the cake. I saw Neal playing with one of the other children right before I went in, he was gone by the time I came back out,” Warren explained.

“Mrs. Davidson?”

“I saw him playing too around that same time. There were so many people around that I thought he was safe so I turned my back to him for just five minutes to talk with one of the other mothers. I only noticed he was missing when Warren came out with the cake and we were ready to sing Happy Birthday to Neal. I should have never taken my eyes off of him,” Michelle said, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

Warren saw it too and brought his wife into his arms. Peter was at a loss for what to do. He couldn’t imagine what they’d been through all these years and the fact that there was a chance Neal Caffrey _wasn’t_ their son must have hurt more.

“I’ll…leave the two of you alone. If you need anything, let me or one of the other agents know. I’ll be back when the results come in.”

They gave him a nod in understanding and he left. For the first time in his career, with all the cases he’d dealt with, this was making him feel like he needed a drink.

* * *

The lab worked quickly. In hours they had their results and the file was passed to Peter. Hughes and Jones were there with him, waiting for what the results said.

Peter opened the file and nearly felt his heart stop.

“Neal is a match,” he said aloud in a voice that was barely above a whisper. He felt like he had said it more to himself than to either of the other two men.

“The Davidson’s have to know,” Hughes said.

“I need to talk to Neal.”

“ _After_ you tell the Davidson’s that their son is alive.” Peter closed his eyes and sighed. Okay, he could tell the Davidson’s first and then he was making a beeline right for the interrogation room that Neal was being kept in. He desperately needed to talk to the kid.

Bracing himself, Peter entered his office and paused for a moment when Michelle and Warren looked up at him.

“I have some news.”

“Is it about the test?” Michelle asked. She looked anxious and Peter couldn’t blame her.

“It is,” Peter nodded. “You were right. He’s your son.”

Warren could only stare as he fought back tears (it was a losing battle) while Michelle’s hand was clasped over her mouth, strangling a gasp while her eyes gave way to tears freely.

“Oh my God. Warren, we found our son.”

“I know, dear. We finally found him.” They smiled at each other and held each other’s hands tightly. It looked like a huge weight had been lifted from them.

“I’ll be right back. I promise.” Before either of the Davidson’s could stop him, Peter was out of his office and on his way to the interrogation room.

* * *

He threw the file onto the table the second he entered, immediately grabbing Neal’s attention. Neal had just started to doze off, using his arms as a pillow, when the file hit the tabletop so hard it sounded almost like a gunshot. Peter hadn’t meant to slam it down so harshly but at least it got the conman’s attention.

“Peter?”

“Open the file.” Neal did so and raised an eyebrow as he read over it. His expression was one of clear confusion.

“What is this?”

“You really don’t know?”

“No, I don’t. Want to explain it to me? Who the hell is Neal Davidson?”

Peter sighed heavily as he slumped down into one of the chairs. He put his head in his hands for a few long, quiet moments before looking up at Neal. This wasn’t going to get any easier no matter how long Peter waited to tell him.

“Peter?”

“Neal, you’re the son of Michelle and Warren Davidson. You’re the son of a diplomat and you went missing twenty years ago. _You’re_ Neal Davidson.”

“No…no, there’s been a mistake. My parents names aren’t Michelle and Warren, their names are Maria and James.” 

Peter noticed then that Neal looked scared, it’s not a word he’d ever thought he’d put to Neal Caffrey but there it is. He looked scared and confused and so much younger than his twenty-eight years and despite how he had run Peter ragged the last three years, Peter felt protective of him, wanted to comfort him but instead he remained seated.

“Your parents aren’t Maria and James and the results of the blood test prove that.”

“Peter, I…” Neal can’t say anymore before the door is being opened and drawing their attention.

“Neal, baby.” Peter’s eyes grow wide at the sight of Michelle and Warren Davidson and he glares at the newbie agent behind them who realizes he’s made a mistake the second he meets Peter’s eyes but it’s too late to fix this now.

Peter isn’t quick enough to stop her. Michelle Davidson is across the room and throwing her arms around Neal in seconds. Neal’s eyes widen in surprise and he stands up abruptly, pushing her away and getting distance between him and Michelle.

“Who are you?”

“Neal, it’s me, it’s mom.”

“I don’t remember you.”

And those words are enough to break anyone’s heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Third WC fic. I really have no chill.


End file.
